


The Rescue

by flyingonfeatherlesswings



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dogs, Homeless Character, Injured Dog, M/M, Stephen Strange loves doggos, dog endangerment, dog rescue, its canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonfeatherlesswings/pseuds/flyingonfeatherlesswings
Summary: Karl Mordo is a dedicated member of a animal rescue team. One day his life changes when he runs into a homeless man who has a collection of dogs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so believe it or not but I actually started writing this before that clip of Stephen and the doggo came out HA. I was on the ball, ahead of my time. 
> 
> It's from a prompt from my friend, Akilah, HI AKILAH!  
> PROMPT:  
> Strordo: Mordo is a dog catcher and Stephen is that dude that hides all the stray dogs so they don't get taken away. They hate each other. This must include Stephen angrily crying and stubbornly holding a pupper that Mordo is trying to collect ha what a softie
> 
> It didn't really turn out that way, but I think it got the heart of what she was aiming for.  
> TW: injured/sick dogs

The team arrived at the abandoned building in the mid-afternoon, exiting the van in the bright sunlight. They had had a few calls about this place over the last week. There were apparently at least four different dogs seen coming and going from the place. The reports had said they looked malnourished, but not dangerously so, and none of them looked like they were as matted as strays could be. It was possible that the dogs had a food source, they may have a squatter situation on their hands, and in that case they needed to check out the area with extreme caution. If it looked like there was a person living in the building, they would need to call the police.

The leader of the animal rescue team on the ground was Karl Mordo, working on the behalf of a non-profit called the For the Hopeless Rescue. He had been with the organization for over five years now, and he helped rescue hundreds of stray cats and dogs in need. He was basically an expert at extracting the animals and he almost had this innate ability to get a cat or dog to trust him. His work had helped him earn a nice collection of awards. Of course it helped that he had a large family inheritance to live off of and could devote almost all of his time to the Rescue. 

He and three other volunteers walked up to the building, looking around for any obvious signs that dogs had been living there. There was droppings and small patches of fluff lying around the front entrance so it was safe to say there were dogs here.

Mordo left his team outside, going alone into the first floor of the building to check out the space, not wanting to risk running into any violent drug addicts. The room was covered in graffiti and was extremely dusty, and luckily didn’t look like it had been disturbed by humans in a while. But then came the sound of shuffling from another room and Mordo tensed, but what followed wasn’t footsteps from a human being, and instead a fluffy, sandy blonde mutt came trotting down the hallway.

Mordo held still watching the animal come towards him. The dog didn’t look rabid or violent, but sometimes it was hard to tell. Instead the dog sat a few feet from him on its back legs and cocked its head at the intruder to its territory.

Mordo slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of jerky, moving to kneel down and hold out the treat to the dog. “You hungry buddy? You want a treat huh?” 

The dog cautiously approached the man, its head down, sniffing at the outstretched hand. It stretched forward and licked up the jerky. As it chewed up the food, the dog curiously regarded Mordo with large dark emotive eyes. 

Mordo leaned forward to get a closer look at her, and he spied something amongst the fur on one its front legs. “What’s that?” asked Mordo and crept closer. He could make out a carefully wrapped bandage around the dog’s leg, blending in with the color of the mutt’s coat. 

“Stevie! Here girl!” 

Mordo jumped back, not having heard someone approach. He quickly stood up to his full height to see the dog, Stevie presumably, trot happily over to a man who had entered the room from the hallway. The man was a little taller than Mordo and was wearing beat up, raggedly clothing and his face was covered in an unkempt beard. He had obviously been sleeping rough. 

The homeless man leaned down to stroke Stevie’s head with a bandaged hand and he made eye contact with Mordo. “What are you doing here?”

Mordo really ought to leave, and not engage the man, he needed to call the police. But for some reason, despite all his training, out popped: “I’m part of the For the Hopeless Rescue. My name is Karl Mordo.”

“Oh really, and who are you here to rescue?” asked the man as he looked around the room, “I don’t see anybody in distress.” 

“We’re a dog rescue.” 

The man’s face contorted in a sneer, “You’re here for my dog?”

Mordo had to stop himself from correcting him and saying ‘dogs’. He knew that there was more than one living in the abandoned building but he didn’t want to provoke the man even more.

“We got some reports Mr…”

“Strange.”

“Mr. Strange,” repeated Mordo with a nod, “We got some reports about a dog being spotted around here and we just wanted to check things out.”

“We?” snapped Strange, “Are there more of you lurking around here?”

“My team is waiting outside for me.” 

“Good, you can get them and go leave. There’s nothing to be rescued here.” The bedraggled man was getting more and more defensive. 

The homeless man turned to leave and Mordo shouted out, “Are there others? I just want to make sure they are healthy and well taken care of.”

Stephen turned back, “What did you say your name was?”

“Mordo. Karl. But everyone calls me Mordo.”

“Well Mr. Mordo, I can tell you are a good man, one that obviously loves dogs. And I can assure you, that my dogs are safe and well looked after okay? I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.” 

Strange said the words with such conviction that Mordo knew the words were true. And he knew he wasn’t going to see those dogs today, not with such a protective owner looking after them. 

Mordo dug around his pocket and pulled out a card, holding it out to the man, “Okay, I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Strange. But if anything happens with your dogs and you need some help, I want you to know you can call me okay?”

Strange stared at the outstretched hand before he reached out and grabbed the card, pocketing it quickly. Mordo couldn’t help but notice the pronounced tremor the other man’s hand and he hoped he wasn’t on drugs. 

Mordo nodded his head as Strange pulled further away from him. “Have a good day, Mr. Strange, take care of those dogs.”

“I will,” ground out the other man. 

xxxx

Mordo had put the other man out of his mind, focusing on the never-ending work involved with animal rescue. Then suddenly a few weeks later he got a call. 

“You bastard!” screamed the voice on the other end of the phone. 

“Excuse me? Who is this?” asked Mordo. 

“It’s Strange! And you heard me! You complete bastard! I knew this would happen, where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“Don’t play dumb! I know it was you!”

“Please, Mr. Strange, calm down, and explain to me exactly what I have done.”

“Seger, one of my dogs, has been gone for more than 24 hours. He always comes home for dinner. It’s not like him to be gone this long,” Strange’s voice had become strained with worry, losing the harsh and accusatory tone for a moment. 

“And you think we might have picked him up?”

“Well, yes. I bet you and your people have been snooping around since I saw you.”

“Mr. Strange, the only dog rescue we have done in the last few days was a small terrier and that was on the other side of town.”

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment. “Are you lying to me?” asked Strange in a suspicious voice. 

“Why would I lie Mr. Strange?”

“Because that’s what you people do right? You take people dogs away?”

“We rescue dogs in need, Mr. Strange. If an owner if neglecting or abusing a dog, we alert the authorities. And I can assure you that I, nor anyone on my team, did that.” 

There was another pause before Strange spoke up again, “Then what happened to Seger? I’ve looked around the area calling his name but no luck.” 

“Someone else could’ve picked him up,” assured Mordo, “Hey, how about I call the shelters in the area, what does Seger look like? I can ask if they’ve gotten a dog matching his description in the last few days.” 

“He’s a large boy. Black fur with a lighter undercoat. Some type of retriever mix. He has a little chunk out of his left ear. It happened before he came to me.” Strange added that last bit quickly, so defensive over his status of a proper dog owner. 

“Okay, I got it Mr. Strange, I’ll call. But how can I get in touch with you? Are you calling from your personal number?”

Strange sighed, “Yes, this is my phone. I try not to make long calls though, don’t want to eat up my minutes.”

Mordo took the hint, “Oh okay, well I will call you back and tell you want I have found.”

Mordo waited to hear Strange’s response and he almost expecting to hear Strange hang up when he heard a small, “Thank you, Mr. Mordo.”

Mordo was surprised, but kept it from showing in his voice when he answered back, “You’re welcome, Mr. Strange.”

xxxx 

A few days later, Mordo went and picked up Strange from a bus stop close to the abandoned building he was living in. Mordo had advised the man to try and shower if he could (he knew there was a nearby truck stop that had showers) and wear clothing that didn’t make him stand out. Strange had mumbled an “alright” into the phone and he had complied. His hair and beard looked clean and trimmed and he smelled just as much as anyone does normally. 

Mordo had called around and found out that a close humane society had the dog in their possession. It turns out Seger had been rummaging around for food in local resident’s trash and they had managed to get ahold of him and take him to the shelter. 

Once they pulled up, Strange was out of the door before Mordo had even fully stopped the car. Once Mordo had put the car in park and had locked it he came in and found Strange demanding to the receptionist that someone take him to his dog. The two of them were escorted back to the big dog cages and then Strange completely melted. 

There was Seger, his fur looking quite fluffy as he bounced up and down for his owner. “Hi boy,” said Strange. “Hi there, look at you.” Strange came to stand in front of the cage, reaching out his fingers to stroke Seger’s front paws which were holding him up in an almost standing position. “I’m so sorry Seger that you had to spend a night alone here, but I’m gonna take you home.” Seger merely panted in reply, ecstatic at seeing his keeper. 

Mordo didn’t believe the man could be so at ease with anyone. He could tell how much Strange cared about his dogs. 

The shelter worker that had been standing by patiently coughed quietly, “Mr. Strange please could you follow me? I have some things I need to discuss with you.” Strange shot a worried glance in Mordo’s direction but followed the woman to a sitting room. 

Mordo went and walked out and talked to the shelter volunteers and workers. Through his work at the rescue he was quite well acquainted with a lot of them and he enjoyed catching up on their lives and hearing about some of the dogs and cats he had brought in and how they were adjusting in their forever homes. 

He was just talking about a litter of kittens they had rescued from a storm drain when the door to the room Strange gone into slammed open with a bang. The man himself came stomping out, his face a collection of emotions swinging between distress and anger, and he made his way outside. Mordo followed after him. 

Strange was muttering expletives under his breath while he walked in circles in the parking lot. 

“Strange, what’s wrong? What did she tell you?” asked Mordo. 

Strange didn’t reply and merely let out a litany of, “Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!”

“Strange! Take a deep breath and let me help you! Please!”

Strange stumbled over to the car and crouched by the tire, his breathing trying to even itself out, “He’s sick.”

“Seger’s sick? What’s wrong with him.”

“Congenital Heart Defect. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. I noticed him panting more and he did cough some. I’m so stupid!” 

“How was you supposed to know?” 

Strange shook his head, his eyes tightly closed, “I should’ve known.”

“It’s hard to see symptoms sometimes and--”

“No I should’ve seen it.” Strange looked up at the man standing over him, squinting in the sunlight. “I’m a doctor.”

Mordo wasn’t sure if that was the truth or not, but Strange did look pretty lucid, and he didn’t seem the type to spout out disillusions of grandeur.

Strange rolled his eyes at Mordo’s unsure expression. “Google it. Stephen Strange. There, you can read up all on my tragic background to your heart’s content.” 

Mordo filed away the man’s first name for future reference before bringing the topic back on track, “So are you some type of vet?”

“No I was a neurologist, but I still shou--”

“No. Symptoms in dogs and humans are night and day. You can’t blame yourself.”

Strange let his head fall, “Well it doesn’t matter now. I can’t save Seger anyway.”

“What do you mean you can’t save him? The shelter isn’t going to let him die.” 

“Yeah, but I can’t afford the vet bills. I can’t pay for medication. It was going to be hard enough paying the fees to get him back.”

Mordo knew that Strange wouldn’t get Seger back so easily, shelters weren’t so keen on releasing dogs to homeless people who couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t end up back there. But Strange seemed wily enough he thought maybe he could’ve managed to convince them. 

But he was right, he couldn’t pay the treatment, they were at a loss. 

xxxx

Mordo led Stephen back inside to say goodbye to Seger. He tried to leave the room in order to give Stephen some peace, but surprisingly, he asked him to stay. Mordo took a seat in the corner.  
The dog was brought into a meeting room and ran over excitedly to his owner. Seger placed his front paws on Stephen’s thighs and tried his best to lick at his face. “Oh boy, I know boy,” said Stephen stroking the dog’s fluffy black fur. Once the dog had calmed down, he rested his head on Stephen’s knee, his tail swishing back and forth behind him. 

Stephen ran his hands down the dog’s head, pushing the ears back and then letting him spring back up. Stephen took a deep breath, “I’m so sorry Seger, but I have to go. You have to stay here boy. The people here are going to take good care of you okay?” It’s like Seger could sense the distressed tone in his owner’s voice and his tail stilled and he looked up at Stephen with his big brown eyes. Stephen clenched his eyes shut hard and slid down the seat onto the floor, holding the dog close. 

Mordo really felt like he was intruding but he forced himself to stay sitting. After all, it was a sight he had witnessed in the past. Sometimes in his line of work he ran into people who were good people, and good owners, they just couldn’t provide for their pet. But these were good people, and they knew letting the dog go was the best option. Stephen Strange was a good person. 

Stephen had eventually peeled himself away from Seger and handed his lead back to the shelter volunteer. Stephen reassured Seger that he would come and see him before turning on his heel and walking quickly out in the hallway and out into the parking lot. 

Mordo said some quick goodbyes before following the other man. Strange stood outside the car, his shoulders hunched up and shaking slightly. 

“Strange? Stephen?” asked Mordo softly, walking up behind the other man. He reached forward to put his hand on Stephen’s shoulder, just letting him know he was there. “He doesn’t understand why I’m not taking him with me. He’s confused. And he’s scared.” Stephen’s voice was broken and barely getting the words out. 

Eventually, Stephen turned around and looked at Mordo in the with his red and watery eyes, “I couldn’t save him. I can’t save anybody anymore, I’m useless.”

At this a huge rush of tears hit Stephen all at once and his crumbled, Mordo reaching forward to grab him and let him sob into his shoulder. All he could offer was a shoulder to cry into, but Stephen Strange happily took it. 

xxxx

Mordo took Stephen home after he had calmed down and Mordo took the opportunity to access just how many dogs Stephen had. Mordo was relieved that it was only four, counting Seger. A small brown and white terrier named Bowie, a chihuahua named Chuck, and Stevie, the dog Mordo had met that first day. 

Mordo laughed as he was driving, “Okay Bob Seger, David Bowie, Stevie Nicks, and Chuck….?”

“Mangione, and it’s not Stevie Nicks. It’s Steven Morrissey. She’s a mournful soul,” said Stephen with a small smile. 

When they got back to the building, Strange invited him on up to meet his brod. In a large open room on the second floor Stephen had a sleeping bag laid out, with some other supplies piled up neatly in along the wall. The dogs each had their own bed in the room, close to Stephen’s. “We need to share the body heat,” said Stephen with a shrug, “It can get pretty chilly in here at night.” 

The three dogs were very interested in Mordo, tails wagging excitedly. Chuck the chihuahua was so overcome with the shakes that the breed was known for he almost vibrated over the floor. 

“Chuck makes for awful street dog, he’s got no fight in him,” said Stephen, “I bet he was some old lady’s baby, and somehow got lost or maybe she died and he got thrown out.”

Mordo sat on the floor, absent-mindedly stroking Bowie, who had curled up by his leg. “How do you feed them? If you don’t mind me asking.” He had noted that there was a tightly rolled bag of dog food in the corner, secured to ward off bugs and rats from getting into it. 

“Places around town will pay guys like me for a little bit of work, maybe washing dishes or sorting through trash. Just shit no one else wants to do,” said Strange. He was sitting crossed legged on the floor, petting Stevie. After his initial excitement, Chuck had climbed into his lap and passed out. “Not much I can do with these hands,” said Strange waving a hand in front of Mordo, “I can’t even write my own name with pen and paper.” 

Mordo hadn’t really registered the scars on the other man’s hands and now he felt pretty low for assuming that Stephen had been on drugs that day he had met him. 

“Can I ask how that happened?” asked Mordo tentatively. 

Strange tensed up, “Like I said, Google is your friend.”

“I’d rather hear it from you than sneak around behind your back.”

Strange stared down at his dogs, running a hand through Bowie’s fur. Mordo was about to try and change the subject or excuse himself when Stephen spoke up, “Car accident. I was texting and driving. Got pretty fucked up and my hands got crushed against the dashboard. That ended my surgeon career.”

Before Mordo could ask further questions, Stephen stretched his arms above his head, yawning loudly. “Well it’s getting late, the sun will be going down soon, and I don’t think you want to be in an abandoned building in the dark.”

Mordo wanted to protest, he wanted to offer to get Stephen some food, but he could tell that the man needed to be alone and he allowed himself to be shown the door. Before Mordo could exit though, Strange stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“Mordo, I wanted to say--it’s just that today---thank you. For everything.”

Mordo smiled, patting the other man on the shoulder, “It wasn’t a problem I assure you.”

xxxx

Mordo visited regularly in the next few weeks, making sure that Stephen and the dogs had enough. Winter was approaching and it would be getting colder soon and while Stephen had assured him that he had made it through a winter already on the streets, Mordo still worried about how he would cope. 

He thought everything was going as well as it could be until he got another frantic call from Stephen one afternoon. Mordo sped over to Stephen’s home and ran up the stairs two at a time to burst through the door of the room that Stephen used as a bedroom. 

There he was met with the sight of Stephen, only wearing a ratty sweater and threadborne trousers, on the floor cradling Bowie. The dog was shivering slightly and had his eyes clamped shut. Around his leg Stephen had tied a hasty tourniquet around Bowie’s leg, which was seeping blood. 

Mordo didn’t waste any time checking on the other two dogs, making sure they were secure and had food and water, before helping Stephen up with Bowie and ushering the man out to his van. Mordo may have broken a few traffic laws getting to the nearest vet. All the while, Stephen was in the front seat, clutching Bowie to his chest, telling him he was a good boy and he’d be alright. That he would take care of him. 

Once they got to the vet, Bowie was taken from his arms and rushed back into the back, leaving Stephen standing, looking lost in the waiting room. Mordo had him sit down and got him a cup of coffee, desperate to calm the frantic man’s nerves. He noticed that Stephen’s sweater had some blood on it, he had tried to use it to put pressure on Bowie’s wound, and that since he was wearing a t-shirt underneath, he instructed Stephen to take it off. Mordo couldn’t help but notice how thin Stephen was, he ribs almost visible through the shirt. Mordo tried to bring food around for Stephen but it was obvious now that he hadn’t been eating all it himself. 

Stephen tearfully told Mordo that he had just let Bowie out for a moment to do his business, and when the dog hadn’t come back after an hour, Stephen had gone looking for him, eventually finding him whimpering in a ditch. He must have been attacked by another dog or coyote. 

Mordo assured him that the Bowie would be fine, and it wasn’t his fault, but Stephen shook his head. “It was stupid of me to think I could take care of them. Just look at me. I can’t even take care of myself.” 

Mordo slipped a hand around his skinny shoulders and was glad that Stephen didn’t flinch away. 

After they sat there for a moment, listening to the hustle and bustle of the waiting room. There was an older lady trying her best to calm her anxious cat and a small family playing with an excited puppy. Finally Stephen spoke up again, “No it’s over, I’m done.”

Mordo didn’t question him any further and just let the man lay his head on his shoulder, holding him close for the remainder of their wait. 

xxxx

Mordo was worried about what drastic moves Stephen would make after Bowie’s trip to the vet. He was worried by what he had meant by “I’m done.” But then Stephen had called Mordo one day and he told him that he wanted to get his dogs adopted.

“Stephen are you sure?”

“Mordo, accidents will keep happening. It isn’t fair to them when there are homes out there for them. Real homes. I can’t do this to them.”

And so Stephen brought Stevie and Chuck to the rescue and let them taken out by foster owners. Getting Bowie back was almost impossible considering the high cost of his operation. He would also eventually go to a foster home. 

After his dogs were in good care, Mordo and Stephen stood in Stephen’s makeshift home. Stephen let out a sigh, letting his eyes linger over the empty dog beds. It was November and this was no longer a suitable place to sleep. He could freeze in the middle of the night. 

Mordo asked him if he’d like to stay with him for the time being, but Stephen shook his head saying that he already owed Mordo took much as it was. Mordo instead helped him get set up at a men’s shelter, a place that had been closed to Stephen before because they didn’t allow dogs. 

xxxx

A few months had gone by and spring was approaching, and Stephen Strange’s life had improved by leaps and bounds. He was no longer living at the shelter, and had managed to get a small apartment. He had finally swallowed his pride and was working via the internet, helping out personnel with his vast medical knowledge. He even got back in touch with some old work friends, a doctor named Christine Palmer was particularly relieved to hear he was doing well. His new job as consultant had started to earn him a steady income. Much to Mordo’s relief, he had put on weight and had cleaned up his facial hair into a goatee. 

Mordo started to feel less and less like Stephen was one of his cases and was happy to find that they basically stood on equal footing. Finally one day in April he worked up the courage to ask Stephen over for dinner, which Stephen happily accepted. 

Mordo had spent far too much time trying to decide what to wear before finally settling on a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved button-up. He had agonized over what food to make. Ever since Stephen had gained his autonomy back, the man had been trying to eat vegetarian and Mordo had to cooked up a completely vegan meal (just in case). Mordo looked over the stir-fry of vegetables, mushrooms, and noodles and felt quite proud of himself. The food wasn’t the biggest surprise he had in store though.

Stephen arrived with a bottle of wine, he was wearing a band t-shirt and jeans and looked the most nervous Mordo had ever seen him. He was awed by dinner and thanked Mordo constantly, “Karl, you should’ve have. I would’ve been fine with ordering a pizza.” Mordo reassured him that it wasn’t a problem and that he liked cooking. 

Mordo gave Stephen a quick tour of his home and introduced Stephen to his own pet, a slim tuxedo cat that begrudgingly let Stephen pet her but didn’t return much affection. 

“She’ll warm up to you,” said Mordo. 

Stephen smiled at him, “You planning to have me around more?”

“Well I--” Before Mordo could finish though, there was a loud bark from the backyard.

Stephen laughed, “You have a dog? Karl are you hiding it from me? Afraid I’ll steal it?” Stephen walked over to the backdoor, flinging it open. Stephen gasped in surprise to see a fluffy, black dog barreling towards him.

“Seger! Oh my god! What are you doing here?” Stephen got down on one knee to pet the excited dog and let the dog give him some puppy kisses.

Mordo looked on with a big smile, “He’s on medication and he got surgery, but he still needs special care. He wasn’t going to be adopted easily so I decided that I had enough room.”

Stephen stood up and hugged the man tightly. “Thank you so much for this Karl,” he said into Mordo neck. 

When Stephen pulled back, Mordo’s arms still around his waist, Mordo came up to hold Stephen’s face in his hand. “It’s fine, I love dogs, remember? Plus it was getting kind of lonely around here.” 

“You’re lonely want some company?” asked Stephen, looking slightly down at the shorter man. 

Mordo coughed a little and turned away, “Well umm I guess I do have a good reason you should come around more now.”

“Like I needed another excuse,” said Stephen before leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Mordo, letting his arms come up around Mordo’s neck. 

They kissed lazily until a bark interrupted them and Seger dropped a tennis ball at their feet. Stephen laughed and pulled away, grabbing the ball, but keeping his hand in Mordo’s.

Later that night, with Stephen and Seger curled up against him on the couch as they watched a movie, Mordo thought about how he had thought of Stephen in the beginning as just another being that needed to be rescued. But as he laid a kiss on the dozing man’s forehead, he realized how strong Stephen was, how much he had saved himself and his loved ones. 

Mordo was glad he had come into his life and he was excited for their life ahead. He wondered how many dogs he could fit into his modest home. Oh well, he could upgrade, he had the funds.


End file.
